


après midi

by flannypack



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, but im tired of it just sitting in my google drive ssso, this is unfinished lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannypack/pseuds/flannypack
Summary: Newt looked up to finally see the mystery pianist, peering at their back as they played. He couldn’t quite make any presumptions about their gender identity as he took in their long, lithe figure that seemed to contrast with their, more impressively, long curls tumbling just onto the tops of their shoulders. Not that it was by any means pressing to know if they identified one way or another, but it was curious. A slight smile ghosted across Newt’s lips, before he thought better than to dwell long on such an inconsequential thing. He began to steel himself, squaring his shoulders a bit more and adjusting the strap of his bag that crossed over his chest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for continuously posting unfinished stuff. is this fandom dead yet or

“So, next class, as I said, we’re going to be diving into capturing the human figure in a candid state. Truthfully, I won’t _know_ if you asked your subject to pose for you,” Newt paused, the corner of his lips quirking upwards in a playful smile, “but I trust you all to have integrity and to follow my directions for your own good.”

 

He turned towards the projection on the whiteboard to his left.

 

“Remember, I’m not going to be grading the content of your prerequisite sketches. I’ll be grading based only on if you have them or not. We’ll be looking at everyone’s next class. Your instructions to otherwise prepare for Project Four are posted online as always. Email me if you have any other questions about what I’m asking of you. Other than these,” another pause to cast a glance down at his watch, “you are all dismissed. See you on Wednesday.”

 

The sound of backpacks zipping and papers shuffling picked up as Newt began pulling together his own things, slipping off his glasses in order to better read the notes he’d set out on top of his desk. After it seemed everything was filed away into his folders correctly and the desk was prepared for the following night classes, Newt hoisted his well-worn, brown leather bag onto his shoulder and started for the door, pausing to look behind himself and double-check for anything left behind. From day one it seemed he consistently left _something_ for the next professor to find and then think of Newton Scamander, the man who seemed to leave a trail of personal items wherever he went. Moving towards the door again, he patted his pockets, feeling the shape of keys, his wallet, and--

 

“Newt!”

 

His head snapped up, another smile crossing his face.

 

“Modesty, hello. Just in time, you know. I mean, you’re always on time of course. My schedule’s not hard to remember. In fact at this point I might as well be saying ‘right on time’ rhetorically.”

 

Modesty rolled her head with her eyes at Newt, but her grin was wide and mirrored the warmth and familiarity of the man’s who she watched putter about at the doorway. Upon Newt finally making his way out, Modesty let him close the door with the care that was particular to him, then gestured with a hand for him to follow.   

 

“Tina’s waiting for you in the lobby. She was wondering if she could join us for coffee. She said she won’t disturb the either of us, she just wanted in on the routine since she’s free.”

 

Newt’s heart dropped at the mention of his girlfriend’s name, anxiety tearing across his features and splitting his smile in twine.

 

“Oh, gods, don’t tell me I’ve forgotten plans I made again. Blast it, why can’t I stop disappointing her, I swear I don’t mean it, but I get so caught up in-” a firm hand on his arm made Newt stop. Modesty furrowed her brows.

 

“Newt, you didn’t make any plans. She just got off of work early is all.”

 

Modesty watched the tension slowly ease out of him in a long, tight exhale, quiet in knowing why Newt wasn’t immediately deflated with relief. He hadn’t even remembered that he never made plans in the first place. She looked off to the side, pushing past her brief acknowledgement of Newt’s, quite frank, recursive irresponsibility in his relationship with her dear friend. The discomfort it brought her originated not just in the fact that Tina was her good friend, but in the fact that Newt was as well. Modesty pressed out a sigh.

 

“In any case. It’s not a problem if she comes along?”

 

Newt was nodding as he straightened out the blue sweater he had on, patting it off in a deliberate manner then picking his fingers through his unruly hair in what looked like an attempt to make it presentable. He pulled himself more upright entering the line of Tina’s sight, the woman’s much more relaxed demeanor blaringly obvious. Modesty didn’t pay it any further mind.

 

“Newt, ugh, I’m so glad to see you before you’re already unconscious and drooling all over yourself.” Tina held her arms up for an embrace, wrapping them snugly around Newt’s neck and pressing her face into his hair. He put his own arms around her slim waist, shifting his hold to her hips when she pulled away enough to speak.

“Which is me just trying to say I’m super grateful for an uneventful day. We got a call from a really frantic lady about a missing dog,” Modesty watched Newt’s eyes light up, “which, y’know. Isn’t too crazy. That was it. Insane right?” Tina laughed to herself, leaning forward for a kiss.

 

Newt’s gaze dropped immediately to the side. His head angled away in the same direction before their lips met, smile tightening for a moment. Tina inhaled once at him, short and fast, decidedly turning her head away as well. She kept her expression from becoming taut. The time between Newt lightly patting Tina’s side and when he stepped back from her seemed to last for a breath too many, but the way the happy lines around his eyes returned like they’d never left, and his face softened again, made it easier to ignore.

 

“I would love to join the police force if only to help you all find that dog.”

 

Modesty giggled. “You’d do a lot just to be in the general vicinity of a new dog, Newt.”

 

She moved to Tina’s unoccupied side, despite guessing there really wasn’t any reason to, and looked over at Newt across her.

 

They left the building as a trio, Newt beginning a characteristic monologue that shifted between dogs in general, and the magnificent blonde pitbull terrier he’d offered to foster on behalf of his mother, amongst the many other animals his family looked after in his barn of a home back in England. In fact, now that Modesty thought about it, perhaps the Scamander family actually owned a barn. That _would_ offer a reason as to why Newt once mentioned that before trying his hand at becoming a professional jockey, he was already well-versed in horseback riding. Modesty had initially thought nothing particular of the statement, but now, it wasn’t too far-fetched to assume the horses he rode in his youth were his own…

 

“Oh, Modesty, by the way,” Newt looked over to the girl, “something very peculiar happened a few days ago-”

 

“That is nothing new, I presume, Newton Scamander,” Tina playfully cut in. Modesty laughed at the remark, even moreso at Newt’s momentary hesitation before he smiled at himself too.

 

“Well, you’re right. I should say this is _extra_ peculiar then, shouldn’t I?”

 

“My, should we hold on to our seats for this one?”

 

“Alright you two, I get it,” Newt said amongst the women’s giggles, letting a heave out past his bashfully tilted lips. “I admit, there’s hardly a day where I haven’t got something peculiar to tell you, but this thing, I really think it’ll surprise you.”

 

Tina raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, looking over at him with exaggerated expectancy that Modesty mirrored perfectly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just made up that school name

Newt was drawn closer to the white doors of the church, their paint chipping with age, giving way to some sort of metal underneath—whatever metal church doors were made out of. One was already propped open by a wooden doorstop, he noted with a glance down. Excellent. He wouldn’t need to make his entry any more of an intrusion than it already was. Turning himself sideways, Newt wormed his way in, wriggling about to try and avoid pushing too much on the door. His shoulders hunched when both feet finally stepped onto the floor of the church.

 

Newt looked up to finally see the mystery pianist, peering at their back as they played. He couldn’t quite make any presumptions about their gender identity as he took in their long, lithe figure that seemed to contrast with their, more impressively, long curls tumbling just onto the tops of their shoulders. Not that it was by any means _ pressing _ to know if they identified one way or another, but it was curious. A slight smile ghosted across Newt’s lips, before he thought better than to dwell long on such an inconsequential thing. He began to steel himself, squaring his shoulders a bit more and adjusting the strap of his bag that crossed over his chest. 

 

“Hel — Hello.” 

 

His voice rang out painfully loud against the abrupt stop of music coming from the piano. He cleared his throat, briefly dropping his eyes, then willed himself to look up again at the hurried sound of the pianist shuffling in their seat to turn and see him. The pianist’s eyes were wide, their lips parted with their start. Reflexively, Newt raised his hands at their expression in an attempt to play down his intrusion. For a split second, he could’ve easily mistaken them for a frightened cat, the uncanny likeness only furthered by the way their wild hair seemed to shift with their body like a feline’s would down its back. 

 

“ _ Comptine d'Un Autre Été _ from  _ Am _ _ é _ _ lie  _ by Yann Tiersen,” he rushed out. “Haven’t seen the movie but love the soundtrack. It’s easy to love. Magnetic, really. I’m attracted to it like a patagonian mara to an open plaine. Which is why I-... I’m… Here.” 

 

It took a few blinks, and around a minute or so of staring, before the pianist’s eyebrows furrowed and he brought his hands tentatively to his lap to speak.

 

“What-… What is-… A… Pat—” 

 

“Patagonian mara?” Newt interjected as he took a small step forward, his smile, incited, starting to unfurl with new energy. “A fantastic animal native to Argentina. They’re a giant rodent with rabbit ears and kangaroo legs. They prefer to live on open plaines, hence, the… The idiom. That’s—erm. I-... I’m Newt Scamander.” 

 

The pianist hesitated once more, picking at his fingers for a moment, as if contemplative, then spoke again, his voice still mild. 

 

“Credence. I’m sorry if I-... Disturbed…” 

 

Newt jumped, shaking his head. 

 

“Oh, no, no! Not at all! I should be apologizing, for interrupting your magnificent playing. Really, you—do you take lessons?” 

 

“No, I-… I did, but... Not anymore.” 

 

The distance Newt was at was good at the moment, Newt absently thought. Trying his unskilled hand at making friends from no less than fifteen feet away was making conversating a real piece of cake. It almost mirrored a classroom setting, where the intimacy of physical closeness wasn’t a suffocating burden that dared him to fiddle with his sleeve _ one more time _ before he’d get bludgeoned by a claim of deliberate inattentiveness. The, sort of, uncomfortable, stumbly nature of introductions was well-improved by this impromptu distance, he thought. Perhaps the pianist, Credence, thought the same. Granted, he still looked a bit… Constipated, if Newt was being frank, nevertheless, he didn’t budge. 

 

“I’m going to guess it was some parental figure that made you endure lessons, then as soon as you hit the teens,” Newt said with a well-meaning breath, “they couldn’t wrestle you into taking not another class.” 

 

Newt looked back up from the spot he’d been fixating on to find his joke hadn’t seemed to have… Quite taken off with the young man. The corners of Newt’s mouth slowly started to sag as he looked on at Credence, who was blinking before his black eyes pulled away from Newt and seemed to watch something that made his shoulders stretch taut. Newt pursed his lips, wetting them before starting an apology for his dated and understandably lousy joke, when Credence spoke first. 

 

“Something… Like that.” 

 

Newt didn’t want to talk about what he’d said any longer, but he nodded once at what he would place as Credence humoring him. He swallowed, then shifted his weight to a leg. 

 

“In any case. Do you go to the college nearby? The New York College of Art and Design?”


End file.
